Chance Meetings
by Razorbackgal0225
Summary: Sometimes you meet people and you don't remember them.  Sometimes you meet people and think about them every once and awhile.  And then sometimes you meet Harvey Specter.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all...for now

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, cars or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: So, I'm slightly obsessed with this show. And as you'll be able to tell soon enough, one character in particular. So after much thought and meditation, I started this. It's my first story in a long time, so I ask you to let me know what you think; I might be a little rusty.

The First Time

The first time I saw him had been at the end of a particularly shitty day at the office. I had been working long hours for a couple of weeks now, as my firm's services seemed to be more and more in demand. My best friend had convinced me to leave the files on my desk for a night and go out for a drink. The upscale bar was exactly half way between my apartment and Becca's, so we had agreed to meet there.

When I walked through the door, I knew I was going to like the place. Plenty of televisions showing the ongoing baseball and pre-season football games with a decidedly low-key atmosphere. While the clientele did trend more towards the masculine, enough women were present to not make me feel out of place. Almost all the tables were taken, so I made my way to the bar and found two seats together. I ordered two vodka tonics, one for Becca and one for me, and started to relax. While I waited, I surveyed the crowd. Typical New York Thursday night crowd; a lot of suits, a few couples scattered about and women dressed to the nines. Nothing and no one that specifically caught my eye, until I saw him.

He was sitting across the bar from me, talking with a man who was probably five years younger than me. While the younger guy was cute and had a friendly face, I barely noticed him. My attention was riveted on his companion. He was almost ridiculously attractive, hair combed and slicked back to showcase his handsome features. The crinkles around his deep brown eyes gave him an appearance of intelligence, not age like with some men. A slight scar at the corner of his generous mouth caused one side to turn up slightly, almost in a permanent smirk. It was obvious his suit was custom made and worth more than my first car, but the attitude with which he wore made it that much more…extravagant. Anyone who saw him knew he was successful and that they were all lucky to be in the same room as him. I was fascinated immediately and had to work to keep from staring.

"That's _the_ Harvey Specter," Becca whispered as she finally joined me at the bar. I blinked a couple of times, trying to break the spell that had been cast over me. I unwillingly turned my attention to my friend.

"Who's Harvey Specter?" I asked, keeping my voice as low as possible, in case anyone around was listening. I was also trying to act as though I hadn't been out and out ogling a stranger.

"The guy you're practically drooling over. Don't think I didn't notice."

I rolled my eyes in response, hoping to convince myself as well. "Whatever I don't drool."

"Right, well, if you had been, I would tell you that he," Becca gestured in the man's direction across the bar, causing me to almost cringe from the obviousness of it, "is who I've been negotiating with for two weeks for this recent merger. And that if you think he's distracting from across the room, you should try and sit across a conference table from him," Becca added as she took a generous drink from the glass waiting on her. "Not only is he hot as hell, he's terrifying as hell too."

Before I could stop, I glanced back his direction. He was still talking with his companion, but his eyes were now trained somewhere near our seats. It was impossible, because of the noise level in the room, but it was almost like he knew someone was talking about him and was trying to find who it was. As he scanned the bar, I saw a flash of recognition in his gaze when he saw Becca. He raised his glass in salute, a move Becca acknowledged with a reluctant wave. He then said something to his companion, which caused the younger man to look up, see Becca and smile broadly. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I felt a matching expression grow on my face. The guy's grin was infectious. So I was still smiling when we made eye contact.

In those three seconds, my mind stopped racing with thoughts work for the first time in weeks. All I could focus on was how commanding his eyes were, how he managed to convey strength, confidence and heat at the same time. His attitude couldn't have been clearer if he been holding a sign stating "Yeah, I'm a badass." And for a girl who had a thing for cocky, good-looking man, he was practically a beacon to a path of bad decisions and awkward morning-after situations. So I acted out of complete self-preservation and turned back towards Becca.

"Yeah, I'm not really feeling a lot of sympathy towards you for having to look at that during your case," I said quietly and then quickly changed the subject, but not before casting one last glance in his direction. The smug grin he wore, knowing I had looked back, told me that I had made the right decision.

The Second Time

The second time I saw him was in my boss's office. I was trying to deliver the latest report on my current assignment, but I stopped before entering the room when I saw a familiar face in the waiting area. Something about the messy light brown hair and innocent expression sparked my memory, but I couldn't figure out why. Not seeing my boss's secretary anywhere around, I approached him.

"Hi, are you waiting on someone?"

He answered without looking up from his cell phone. "I'm here with Harvey Specter, he's talking to Mr. Matthews." He finished typing and looked up. I saw a flash recognition in his expression as he stood and held out his hand. "Oh, hi. I'm Mike Ross. You work here?" he asked, as though we did know each other.

As I took his hand, I processed the name he had mentioned first. Harvey Specter, the face and name that had floated through my daydreams for the past three weeks. That's why I recognized him, he was the younger man that had been with Harvey that night at the bar. Mentally shaking myself, I remembered my manners. "Nice to meet you, I'm…" I was interrupted by my boss exiting his office.

"Ms. Walker, your timing is perfect," Mr. Matthews said as he walked towards me. "I have a new assignment for you. Mr. Specter," my boss inclined his head to the man following him, "needs to find the origin of these transactions and he needs it by the end of the day." Matthews handed me a folder containing a few sheets of paper. "I'd like for you to get started on it right away."

Before I could respond, Harvey was in my line of sight. My imagination had created several scenarios for how we would see each other again. Sometimes it was a chance meeting at a restaurant or ballgame. Many times it did involve work, but generally I was wearing my best suit and killer heels, instead of the pants and ballet flats I had picked today because of the rainy forecast. However, none of my fantasies included him looking me up and down with absolutely no sign that he had seen me before. He then grimaced faintly and turned to my boss. "Where's David? He normally works on my cases."

"David is on vacation this week, but don't worry Harvey," Mr. Matthews answered. "Ms. Walker is one of the best forensic specialists on staff. You can trust she'll find the information you need."

Harvey turned his attention back to me and this time I was a little more prepared. "I'll have the report to you by the end of the day, Mr. Specter," I said, and if a little emphasis and sarcasm crept into my voice when saying his name, it was only self-defense. I am damn good at my job and don't appreciate someone who didn't know me assuming I'm not. And when I was alone, I would then, and only then, admit that I was a little hurt our brief eye contact in the bar that night obviously hadn't been as memorable for him as it had been for me, damn it. So I was all set to march off in high dudgeon when he grinned at me.

Okay, technically it was a smirk, but still, it wasn't the reaction I had been expecting. And to finish completely throwing me off balance, he nodded and moved to leave. "I'll be looking for it, Ms. Walker," he threw over his shoulder, his tone matching mine exactly, right down to the extra emphasis on my title as he sauntered to the bank of elevators. Mike, who I had temporarily forgotten, gave me a friendly smile as he followed after his colleague.

I narrowed my eyes at his back as he left, wanting to stick my tongue out at him, but holding back. In the last two minutes, I had decided I didn't think the third time would be the charm with us. Maybe I would get lucky and this would be the end of our meetings. But I somehow doubted it.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all...for now

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews and alerts! That kind of response does cause me to write a little faster. I hope you enjoy!

The Third Time

The third time, in my mind, should have counted for fifteen separate encounters with him. A couple of weeks after completing his oh so important assignment, my boss asked me deliver a 'for your eyes only' report to the law firm of Pearson Hardman. Normally I would have been a little offended at being asked to play delivery girl, but Mr. Matthews had been kind enough to say that if I took the report, I could then leave for the day. Since I had been working 60 hours weeks for a month and it was 2:00 on a Friday, I jumped at the chance, even if it did mean that I might see _him _again. Before my boss or I had a chance to change our minds, I hopped in a cab and gave the driver the address.

I tried to concentrate specifically on the fact that I was getting an afternoon off as I rode in the elevator up to the Pearson Hardman floor. I emphasize tried, because it didn't work. While I was looking forward to an early start to the weekend, every few seconds _that smirk_ would float through my mind's eye. The smirk still haunted me, even though I hadn't seen or talked to him since our second meeting. My reasonable, logical side was insisting that the chances of actually seeing him, as I was delivering the report to a Louis Litt, were slim; it was a fairly large law firm. He might be in a meeting or off wining and dining some important client and not even be in the building. Drowning out that voice of reason was the carefully hidden Southern belle who was screaming that it was fate that I was wearing my favorite suit and had just gotten my highlights touched up earlier in the week and that of course I was going to run into him. I was glad no one could hear my inner monologue as I exited onto the correct floor. I didn't think I would look particularly fetching in a straight jacket.

I spoke to a very nice receptionist who directed me to Mr. Litt's office. I wandered through the maze of offices and cubicles, reading the names on walls as I went by. I passed a very pretty girl who entered an office labeled Rachel Zane, Paralegal. Her office was bigger than the cubicles I walked by next, which housed what I immediately decided where a bunch of tools with larger than necessary egos, specifically the one who's name plate read Kyle something or other. I passed conference room after conference room, all glass walls and sleek furniture, until I finally reached my destination. I approached the assistant sitting outside Mr. Litt's office.

"Hi, I'm with Matthews and Phillips Accounting, I'm here to deliver this report to Mr. Litt," I said. The assistant looked up from her typing.

"Oh yes, the Sanders information. You can leave that with me and I'll see that he gets it," the older lady held out her hand. I gratefully gave up the report, thanked her and turned to make my way back out to the elevators.

After I passed the cubicle farm and most of the conference rooms, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was going to escape this visit unscathed and ready to start my weekend. I started thinking of what I wanted to do with my free time, considering a shopping trip or seeing a movie. Unfortunately, there was one office that I had failed to notice on my way in that was about to ruin my best-laid plans.

"Oh, hey, that was fast, I could swear Harvey hung up the phone with your boss like three minutes ago," my escape route was cut off by that same familiar face I had seen two weeks earlier. Mike Ross smiled at me and nodded into the office he was heading towards. "His office is this way. I'm glad to see Mr. Matthews sent you, you did a great job on that last case, the one with the accounts in Mexico? You'll have to tell me sometime how you traced those transactions that fast. I mean, I think I could have found them, but there's no way I could have done it in four hours, that was awesome." Mike kept a steady stream of chatter going the whole time and before I realized what was going on, he had escorted me into Harvey Specter's office. It was beautiful and masculine all at the same time.

The man in question was facing one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded an incredible view of Downtown, but was reading intently from a file when we walked in. As he had been the two times prior, he was wearing an impeccably tailored pinstripe suit and looked as comfortable in it as I felt in my yoga pants. Just seeing the back of his head was enough to start my heart beating fast and the Southern belle to start singing love songs. I shushed Scarlett as I tried to concentrate on Mike's wordy explanation of why I was apparently there.

"We need to figure out where the other half of the money disappeared to or our client is going to lose everything. We have all the financial records, but they have so many corporate accounts with a ton of transactions a day that we don't really know what we're looking for," Mike was still continuing to talk about something I didn't understand. "So we called in the big gun."

"No, Mike, I'm the big gun, Ms. Walker is just…more ammunition," Harvey finally spoke, his voice smooth and measured as before, as he turned from the window. And now I could add swarming butterflies in my stomach to the other physical reactions he caused me. It was truly unfair to women that a man that was good-looking to begin with also looked so amazing in a three piece suit. I was preparing to try and get some clarification as to what was going on when we were interrupted.

"Wow, Harvey, now you're commandeering people that don't even work here. That's, well, pretty typical for you, I suppose." A short, stocky man with a receding hair line walked into Harvey's office without preamble. "She was delivering a report to me," Ah, this was Louis Litt, "that I have some questions on."

"Well, Mr. Litt," I said, finally able to get a word in, "I can try and answer your questions, but I didn't…"

"What do you mean try? If this is your report, you should know it inside and out," Litt cut off my answer. I was beginning to not like him at all. The more he talked, the more he reminded me a weasel.

"I would agree, Mr. Litt, however I only delivered the report, I didn't work on the Sanders project. I'm sorry, you'd be better off contacting Mitchell Harris to discuss any questions you have," I replied, trying to keep my voice as agreeable as possible. I didn't want to ruffle any feathers of one of our biggest clients.

"Oh, I see. Delivery girl. Well then, never mind," he almost snarled as he spun and left the office. I was a bit taken aback at his attitude, but not entirely surprised. Mike threw me an apologetic look.

"He's a charmer," I said quietly, not wanting to sound too petulant.

"I'd like to tell you that Louis is stressed over the Sanders IPO, but he's really just a dick," Harvey commented, sauntering over to where Mike and I were standing. I prayed that eventually, I wouldn't want to giggle mindlessly when he spoke to me, but I wasn't holding out any hope.

"Wait, so you're not here to help us with the Myers case?" Mike asked.

"No," I answered, "I was just here to deliver that report. Sorry," I didn't know why I felt the need to apologize but when I saw the disappointed look on Mike's face, I couldn't help it. "So, I'm gonna go now," I started towards the door.

"Okay. We'll just be here all night…looking through these transactions…trying to save our client's money…all night…tons of transactions…." Mike's voice followed me to the door. I paused shaking my head at his attempt to get me to stay.

"Really, guilt, that's what you're going for?" I asked, turning back around. "Cause I've got things to do. And you apparently already called my boss to send someone else over."

"Actually I asked your boss to send you over," Harvey added. I blinked in surprise. He had asked for me? That was an unexpected turn of events. "Now, are you going to stay or do I need to call your boss to send someone else?"

I considered my options for a moment. I did technically have the rest of the day off and hadn't heard any different from Mr. Matthews since I left the office. I could have left with a mostly clear conscience had worried about any consequences on Monday. Then on the other hand, as I glanced over at Mike, who was flipping through a ream of paper and practically pouting, I could stay and possibly impress the best-looking man I've ever seen. It was a split decision, until I made the mistake of looking at Harvey again.

The smirk was back. Somehow it was a different than before, this one issuing a challenge to me more than mocking me. Well, that was that, I couldn't turn that down. I held out my hand to Mike, who immediately handed me a manila folder full of paper. "Okay, explain to me again what we're looking for," I said, heading towards an empty chair. As Mike began listing the details of the case, I looked at Harvey and wished I hadn't. He was grinning in complete victory, knowing _he_ had convinced me to stay. I had played right into his hands. No wonder Becca hated going up against him.

Four hours and two Dr. Peppers later, I found the rest of the money. I received a high five from Mike and a "Good job Walker" from Harvey, which made me realize neither of them knew my first name. I rolled my eyes at this realization as I gathered my stuff together. Awesome, I was trying to impress a guy that could only call me by my last name. As Harvey was pushing Mike to his cubicle to finish typing up a settlement agreement or something, the younger man waved at me. "Thanks, um, Walker?" he said hesitantly. I smiled back.

"You're welcome, Mike. Have a nice weekend."

"Thanks," Harvey repeated as he followed Mike to his space. And just when I thought I had made it through one whole interaction with him..."Tell Becca I'll see her Monday for the Shyer meeting," he finished with a grin. I froze mid-step, watching him amble away. My inner monologue started up again. While I was partially overjoyed that he did remember me from the bar, I was also pissed to high heaven that he knew that I had thought he didn't remember me and that he somehow knew that it had bothered me. Just from the tone of his voice, I knew his last comment had been my 'reward' for helping out. This time I indulged my inner child and did stick my tongue out at his retreating form. Damn it, I thought, this is not going to end well for me.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: So just in case anyone doesn't figure it out, I have completely made up everything work-related in this story. While I do have an accounting degree, I haven't really used it in a long time, so all I'm doing is throwing in words that I remember from class. Also, I have no idea what a lawyer actually does, so huge, huge liberties taken with the work situations from here on out. And thanks again for the reviews, those absolutely make my day! Let me know what you think!

The Fourth Time

The fourth time I saw him was one of the more embarrassing moments I had experienced for quite a while. It was 7:00 on a Tuesday night and I was unfortunately still at work. Well, more accurately, back at work. I had left for an hour or so to hit the gym for a short workout which I immediately counteracted by grabbing a burger and fries for dinner. Still having some analysis to do for a new project, I had returned to my office in much more comfortable exercise clothes to put in a couple more hours of work. Our floor was deserted, which would have creeped me out a little if I hadn't had my headphones on, listening to my iPod as loud as I could handle it.

I would like to point out that I was 100% sure that I was by myself in the office. So as I read over some financial data, I was humming and maybe dancing a little in my chair along with my favorite playlist. Not full on singing or anything, but there was definite noise being made and a lot of swaying and head movement to the music. Especially when Carrie Underwood's "Cowboy Casanova" started playing. I was so engrossed in my reading that I didn't see the movement out of the corner of my eye that I normally would have. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a man clearing his throat, definitely loud enough to be in my office. I thought for a second that maybe my boss had returned, which would have been a lot better than who I did see when I looked up from my work.

I jerked the buds out of my ears and paused the music as Harvey Specter stood in my door, laughing at me. "So, this is why the projected revenue for the Hollings acquisition is wrong. You're too busy performing to concentrate on your work."

Several thoughts flew through my mind once I stopped cursing the entire situation. First—really? Of all the people in the world to catch me doing something foolish, why did it have to be the man who apparently never had a hair out of place, much less did something he might not want broadcasted everywhere? Second, even though he was openly laughing at me, I had to admit, the smile on his face and flash of humor in his eyes as a result was almost worth the embarrassment and scathing comments that were coming. It still wasn't fair that he looked like that. Especially since I was wearing yoga pants and a college t-shirt. And last…

"Wait, what do you mean, the projections were wrong? I checked them twice before sending the report over," I grabbed the nearby file to which he was referring when it clicked he was saying my work was wrong. "I used the standard average ROA and ROE to forecast it, just like with every other acquisition projection."

"Hollings revenues have been growing by leaps and bounds for the last three years. These numbers show it declining after the buy. Why would you assume income would change that much?" he countered, dropping his own folder on my desk. He might have been laughing when he came in, but now I was seeing the intimidating lawyer that half of New York feared. His stance, his expression, everything shouted that he was ready for battle.

"You know we have to be conservative on our projections with the current state of the economy. Plus, if Hollings does buy Mercker Tech, there will be a ton of acquisition costs that will eat into whatever revenue growth it experiences." I was warming up to the subject; while I might have been at a clothing disadvantage, I did know my stuff. "Those projections are reasonable given the economic climate and you know that. Anything above that is gravy."

"If I go into this meeting tomorrow with this forecast, Hollings will change his mind completely on buying the Mercker Tech. That means that I don't get to coordinate the sale and that cuts into my billable hours. That's not going to happen. You need to fix this," he said, sitting in a chair opposite me. He seemed to be ready to stay for the long haul.

"What would you like me to do, _Mr._ Specter?" Ah, there it was, my old friend sarcasm. It was nice of it to finally make an appearance. I was slightly offended that he assumed my work was incorrect and didn't mind showing it. "I can't change numbers just so your sales pitch looks better. Unless I'm mistaken, you're the closer in this scenario."

For a long, long moment, we stared at each other, both of us believing we were right. I knew I had completed the projections accurately and that the figures were reasonable. So I waited to see what his response would be.

"The acquisition costs will be manageable and the cut backs they have planned within the Mercker operations will cover those," he finally commented. "That would bump the revenue back into the same range as last year. I know this company and there's no way it doesn't clear at least a 12% profit margin, even with a major purchase like this one."

I frowned, studying the information still in front of me. "That very well may be, but it is complete speculation. There are too many variables involved. Which is why I couldn't…"

"Include that in your original analysis, I know," he interrupted. "But if you ran another analysis under that assumption, I could use that in the meeting tomorrow. Along with the 'conservative' original estimates to show best and worst case," he added when he realized I was going to protest.

"Maybe I don't have time to run another analysis. I do have other work to do, you know," I complained, gesturing the stacks of papers littering my desk. I knew that it would only take an hour or so to do as he asked, but I wasn't ready to give up just yet. I wasn't wrong, but I was beginning to see there might be other possible scenarios that could be presented. And damn it, I hated not being able to fulfill a work request.

For the first time since he had invaded my office, he smirked. "But you have time to dance around to," he moved quicker than I would have thought possible and snagged my iPod from my desk. "Cowboy Casanova?" he read. His tone when saying the song title implied he wasn't impressed with my musical taste. This was confirmed when he continued, "That's an actual tragedy."

"Hey, I don't barge into your office, after hours I might add, and pass judgment on whatever is in your record collection," I retorted, a little snappily, remembering the entire wall filled with old LP's I had seen at Pearson Hardman. "Or are all of those just for show?"

"No, but you're more than welcome to inspect them, I actually have good taste," he said smugly. I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes in response.

"Let me guess, there hasn't been any good music made this century, ever since that weird compact disc invention," I snarked back, not wanting him to know that I thought his record collection was unbelievable cool. "Anything else, grandpa?"

He grinned again, obviously not bothered by my insult, and stood up, buttoning his suit jacket as he did. I realized this was the first time that I hadn't been massively overwhelmed by his good looks. I was well on my way to congratulating myself for a job well done when he said, "So you'll have that new analysis to me by noon tomorrow." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement.

I sighed heavily. "I suppose I can try, _Mr._ Specter," I answered, trying to sound inconvenienced. He gave me that "I'm a badass" smile and headed to the door.

"Good, I'll expect it by 10, _Ms._ Walker" he threw over his shoulder as I watched him disappear down the hallway.

What the hell, I thought, how did he manage to get the last word again? For the second time, I had been tricked into doing exactly what he wanted me to do. I was beginning to understand why he was so good at what he did; I was going to do extra work for someone that still didn't know my first name. As I finished reading, I considered whether I was looking forward to the next meeting or not. Hopefully I would be better dressed.

Unfortunately for me, that didn't happen…

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! I'm glad people are enjoying reading as much as I am writing this! However, please don't get used to this speed of updating! I've been on a roll, but I don't know that it will stay this way. I'll do my best! Please continue to let me know what you think. Additional note: any football opinions stated in this installment are entirely my own and not meant to offend anyone

The Fifth Time

It was supposed to be a nice, relaxing, fun Sunday afternoon. My younger brother had made the four hour drive from law school to New York for the first home Giants game of the year. Growing up in Arkansas, neither of us had a favorite NFL team, so when I moved to New York after college, the entire family adopted the Giants. Almost ten years later, we were die-hard, go-to-every-game-possible, fans. For three years running, my brother and I had been at the first home game of the season, no matter what was going on with either my work or his school. It was one of my favorite days of the year and I was prepared to enjoy it.

The Giants were ahead after a quarter, and we decided we needed snacks and drinks. We left our seats and were in the epically long concession stand line when we, as usual, we started arguing.

"I'm just saying, if I was them, I would consider trading him now," my brother stated, "This way, you get as much out of him as you possibly can before every other team realizes he can't play quarterback. There's got to be a few teams out there that would take a flyer on him."

"But it's only his second year," I countered. "And four weeks ago, Kyle Orton was on the trading block. They obviously haven't given up on him yet. He's had way too much playing time in the pre-season games for the Broncos to not keep him at least as the back-up."

"There's no way anyone can turn Tim Tebow into an NFL quarterback. No way. I watched him play way too much in college to believe that it's going to happen," he debated. "And I know you feel the same way, you're just sticking up for him because he's 'such a nice guy." When he said the last phrase, his voice went two octaves higher, his age-old imitation on me.

I frowned at him, contemplating whether I had any chance at kicking his ass still. It had been years since I had any kind of physical advantage, but maybe if he didn't see it coming and maybe since we were in public, I might get a few hits in. "You're still mad that ESPN handed him the Heisman that year over McFadden," I shot back, deciding against violence for now. He did outweigh me by quite a bit and had at least six inches on me.

"That was a sham vote and you know it." As we were both University of Arkansas graduates, it was a bit of a sore spot, with both of us.

"I'm not agreeing with Denver picking him twentieth in the draft; that was a mistake. I just think it's early to declare him a bust and try to ship him off for a couple of second round draft picks. And I don't think the Broncos are ready to admit they were wrong."

"He was actually picked twenty-fifth," a new voice chimed in our conversation/fight, correcting me at the same time my brother did. I was shocked that someone had been listening to us talk enough to know what we were discussing. And that anyone was ballsy enough to correct a complete stranger. Well, that is, until my brain processed the smooth baritone voice that had interrupted us, which happened right before the man in front of me turned around.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered to myself, as Harvey Specter smirked from the line in front of me. I felt my brother tense up beside me, probably hearing my comment and thinking Harvey wasn't a friend. Which he wasn't exactly, but I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. So, I put on my best smile and greeted him. "Mr. Specter."

"Ms. Walker," he replied, still with the smirk. Then I noticed his attire.

"You're not wearing a suit," I blurted out, without even thinking of the consequences. I was amazed to see him in anything but a three-piece custom made suit. Instead he was wearing what I guessed were still custom-tailored jeans and a black button-down shirt…that wasn't tucked in. His hair, while still slicked back, wasn't quite as severe as normal, giving him a more relaxed look. And an extremely attractive look. I almost gaped in disbelief and awe.

"And you're wearing another t-shirt," he answered, grinning again. I glance down at my outfit, which was perfectly acceptable for a football game. My Giants t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes had looked cute to me when I left my apartment earlier, but now I felt a little underdressed. But I most certainly wasn't going to let him know that.

"Well it is a ballgame," I said.

"That it is. And you were right, it is too early for the Broncos to give up on Tebow. He needs to be a backup for a couple of years and get his throwing motion under control." With his response, I wanted to gloat to my brother that someone agreed with me, but was still trying to process this casual version of Harvey that apparently liked football as much as I did. Thinking of my brother did however, remind me of my manners.

"Oh, sorry, Harvey Specter, this is my brother, Mason Walker. Mason, Harvey Specter, closer extraordinaire," I introduced the two men, hoping my sarcasm was noted in the title I bestowed upon him. From the grin he gave me as he extended his hand to Mason, it was.

"Nice to meet you Mason," he said as the two shook hands.

"Specter. Not the same Harvey Specter that was the attorney for Lauren Foster in her case against Brown Industries?" Mason asked. I turned to my brother, confused. The last time I heard anything near that particular tone of voice from him had been when we ran into Troy Aikman in the Dallas airport.

"Yes, that was me. You're a little young to remember something like that, aren't you?"

"We studied that case in Civil Procedure my first year in law school. It's a pleasure to meet you sir," Mason answered, a little too excited for my liking. I rolled my eyes, something I was doing a lot around Harvey. He at least waited until Harvey was finished ordering at the concession stand before continuing, "Your defense against Brown was amazing. I actually used some of your tactics in my mock trial class last year."

"Glad to know my work is still memorable." The look Harvey gave me was filled with pure arrogance and pride. I tried not to look impressed. "Where do you go to school?"

"Harvard, just started third year."

"Well, good luck to you. Professor Harding is a complete asshole, but you'll learn a lot from him," Harvey said as he picked up his tray. "And don't give your sister a hard time just because she couldn't remember when Tebow was drafted." I was shaking my head and half-smiling before I could stop it. Of course he didn't mention the fact that I was only five off. "Ms. Walker," he smiled at me one more time before heading back to what I somehow knew would be incredible seats.

I was thankful that the distraction of ordering my beer and hotdog prevented me from watching him walk away. I certainly didn't want to get caught staring at him and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would catch me. Thankfully I didn't have to worry about that.

"I don't know whether to get all brotherly and pissed that a dude was checking out your ass as he left or think you're awesome because Harvey freaking Specter was checking out your ass," Mason whispered to me, as if the man in question might hear us talking again. "Sis, he's a legend at Harvard! I can't believe you didn't say anything about knowing him."

"I don't _know_ him," I muttered back. "I've worked on a couple of projects for him. He's kind of a pompous ass, in case you didn't pick up on that. And he was not checking me out, don't be ridiculous." Mason paused a minute, looking at me strangely enough that I finally snapped. "What?"

He broke into a full-fledged grin. "You have a thing for him! You're doing your whole avoiding the issue thing you always do when you like someone."

My mouth fell open in shock, at both his declaration and at the fact that my brother paid attention to that sort of thing. "What! That's ridiculous. Mason, he doesn't even know my first name. He thinks I'm a cross between a flake and his own personal accountant slash slave. I do not have a thing for him!" I picked up my order, expecting him to answer. When he didn't, I braved a glance in his direction. He was still laughing. I gave in, knowing this conversation wouldn't end until I did. "Okay, I might have a tiny, microscopic thing for him, but that's it. And for God's sake don't say anything about it. I just think he's kinda hot, that's all."

"Your secret's safe with me, Sis," he replied. "Far be it from me to point out that he's exactly the cocky, alpha male type that you always go for." I clenched my jaw and stormed off, as Mason reveled in his joke at my expense on our way back to our seats. Unconsciously, I kept an eye out for Harvey, hoping to catch another glimpse of him, even as I watched the game. I found him, sometime during the second half. His seats were practically on the field, about three sections below ours. And he wasn't alone.

The girl with him was decidedly not wearing a t-shirt and jeans; I doubted she even owned those articles of clothing. She was tall, thin and gorgeous, in a simple shift dress that screamed expensive. I looked down at my own outfit, once again feeling ridiculously underdressed. I didn't hide my reaction or the direction of my stare very well, because Mason commented a minute later, "She looks really high maintenance and kinda bitchy if that helps any, Sis." I was grateful that he didn't mention how pretty she was.

I shook off my sad feeling and smiled at my brother. "I think that's enough touchy feely for today. We're here for football, not talking about my non-existent love life." He grinned back at me and we turned our attention back to the game. I made a point to not look in Harvey's direction again the entire afternoon, but that didn't stop me from thinking about him and the beautiful girl with him. Even though I had known it, I didn't enjoy having the fact that he was out of my league and that I wasn't his type on quite so obvious a display. But, I thought, at least he did check out my ass. That was something.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: Here's the next installment. I hope everyone enjoys it, I tried my best to keep everyone in character. Let me know what you think; I love hearing people's thoughts. Thanks for reading!

The Sixth through Eighth Times

Even with the less than encouraging outcome of my last encounter with the great Harvey Specter, I was still wishing for another shot at impressing him. What can I say; I was a glutton for punishment. Since Mason's bold proclamation and my subsequent though hesitant acknowledgement of the tiny thing I had for Mr. Specter, I had the right to occasionally daydream about the next time we would meet. I was determined that this time, I would put my best foot forward. I might not be model material, like his date at the football game, but I wasn't too shabby either. Unfortunately, I would have to wait, as meetings six, seven and eight were rather lacking in actual contact. Supremely disappointing, to say the least.

Episode six happened in my firm. I was coming back from lunch and saw Harvey exit Mr. Matthew's office. I was too far down the hall to say anything, not that I would have known what to say anyway; he didn't appear to be the type to engage in meaningless small talk. I was proud that I managed to keep walking without tripping in my new heels. I kept a steady pace, entirely unsure of whether I wanted to catch up to him or not. It was decided for me when he shook Mr. Matthew's had and turned to leave. I passed by my boss just as Harvey reached the bank of elevators.

"Oh, Ms. Walker, we were just talking about you," Mr. Matthews said as I walked by him.

"You were?" I asked, surprised, especially since I knew with whom he had been meeting.

Mr. Matthews smiled at me and answered, "Yes, Mr. Specter was asking if you could be the primary forensic accountant on the projects he sends to the firm. You've impressed him with your work on the last couple of assignments you've done and would like for you to work on as many as possible."

I could have been knocked down with a feather. Without meaning to, I looked over to where Harvey was boarding an elevator. As usual, he was smirking at me, as if he knew how surprised I was by this news. I turned back to my boss and said, "Well, thank Mr. Specter for me the next time you speak to him." I bit my tongue to keep from saying "I have no idea what to think of this."

Time number seven happened a week later and was even less memorable. I was walking back to my office building and saw his unmistakable figure walk out of a building a few yards away from me, phone held to his ear. He was quickly followed by Mike and they approached a shiny, black Mercedes sitting at the curb. Mike saw me first, smiled and waved. I waved back. Harvey must have noticed Mike's actions, because he pivoted before sliding into the back of the car. I was still smiling from Mike's greeting and would have felt weird not acknowledging Harvey the same way, so I gave a small wave. I received a slight grin and a head nod in reply.

Number eight occurred at Pearson Hardman. I was delivering one of the five projects of Harvey's I had been assigned since his meeting with my boss. I quickly found my way back to his office. This time, it wasn't an exuberant Mike that greeted me.

A beautiful red-haired woman was sitting at the desk outside of Harvey's office. I smiled as I approached her. "Hi, I'm…"

"Walker, the accountant," she completed for me. She held out her hand, I was guessing for the report that I was holding. She tilted her head a little as she looked at me and I felt like I was being inspected. For what, I didn't know. "You're late, Harvey expected this an hour ago," she finally said.

I frowned and glanced at my watch. I had been given a 2:00 deadline and it was only 1:00. I was actually early. "I'm sorry?" I said hesitantly, not sure why I was apologizing to someone I didn't know for something that I didn't do.

"You've lucky," she replied, gesturing with her head to the office behind her. "It's a bad day in there, I doubt he's noticed."

Since she had brought it up, I didn't mind how obvious I was as I looked past her into the glass office. I could see Mike sitting in one of the chairs in front of the wall of records that I had noticed before, looking more serious than I had seen him when we met previously. Harvey was standing with his back to me and I didn't need to know him very well to tell he was tense by the set of his shoulders, very different than the normal relaxed, in-charge of everything attitude I was used to seeing on him.

"Oh," I responded eloquently. "Well, I'll just get out of here then." I didn't mention that I technically was early on my assignment; I didn't know who she was, but this woman had managed to intimidate me with only two comments.

"Donna," Harvey's voice coming from the intercom startled me, "Get Harrison on the phone. And tell Walker to rest up, she's about to have a lot work to do." I looked back into the office. I didn't know how Harvey had known I was there, since he didn't appear to have moved since my last glance. Donna shrugged and picked up the phone to follow his request. I made as graceful a retreat as I could.

See, disappointing. But a week later, number nine…well, it made up for those.

The Ninth Time

Glasses clinked all around the bar as people were toasting and celebrating. Pearson Hardman, with the help of Matthews and Phillips Accounting, had successfully kept one of its biggest clients from falling victim to a hostile takeover. Out of gratitude, the client had booked one of the nicest bars in downtown New York and was hosting a party for all members of both firms. I had worked on the project since the day Harvey had warned that I would be busy and he was right. I had pulled financial records and completed analysis until my eyes had crossed, so I was ready to let down my hair and relax. The party had been underway for an hour and I was two drinks in, knowing that I would be calling a cab to get home. I have to admit, I was feeling that special confidence that comes from a decent buzz.

I was sitting at the bar talking to a couple of colleagues when I noticed the man that had stopped next to me. I waited until he had placed his order before speaking. "Hi Mike."

He turned to me grinning. "Hey, Walker," I noticed he looked as tired as I felt, slight circles under his eyes that I knew I had as well, only mine had been covered up with makeup. "You look great tonight," added, causing me to smile in response. I had taken extra care in selecting my outfit for the night, even though I refused to admit to why. I was wearing my favorite dress, one that I felt was flattering. It was long enough to be professional and short enough to show off my legs. Mike continuing to talk brought me out of my thoughts. "How glad are you to be done with this case? I feel like I could sleep for two days straight."

I nodded in agreement. "If I haven't been working on this case, I've been dreaming about it. It's been nonstop for a solid week. I'm sure it was even worse for you."

He shrugged before answering, "I guess it wasn't that much worse than normal, but Harvey's been stressed out over this one. Which means I've been yelled at a little more than usual."

I was surprised to hear that. I wouldn't have expected that Harvey would ever be forced to shout to get things done. I probably shouldn't have asked, since that showed a little more interest than I was comfortable expressing, but the drinks I had consumed were making decisions for me. "Harvey yells?"

Mike accepted his beer and thanked the bartender before turning to me again. "I supposed he doesn't really yell; he just has this tone that he uses when he's especially upset. Which happens about once a day with me." His expression didn't match what he was saying; he was still grinning. I couldn't help but smile back. "I'm pretty sure it's his way of saying he cares."

I laughed. "That's weird."

"That's Harvey."

"Oh, are you talking about how scared you are of your boss again?" a new voice interrupted our conversation. I leaned forward a little to see who had joined us uninvited. I recognized the speaker as one of the cubicle-dwellers I had noticed during my first visit to their office. One I had immediately labeled as a tool. "It's kind of pathetic, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised based on your track record with authority figures."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Really Kyle, you don't have anything better to do than to bother me while we aren't at work. Shouldn't you be off trying to roofie your date or something else that you consider productive?" From his tone and his response, I could tell this wasn't the first time Kyle had been an issue. I was trying to decide if laughing at him would help Mike's cause any, when the offender spoke again.

"At least I have a date and aren't pining over a paralegal that cost me the mock trial." Well, this guy was a major dick. Letting vodka make my next decision, I laced my arm through Mike's and addressed the guy on the other side of him.

"Oh Mike, is this the guy you're telling me about from the office? The one that's overly proud of a fake trial result?" I had a lawyer for a best friend, I knew what a mock trial was. I lowered my voice to a loud whisper, one that Kyle could still hear. "I thought you said he was taller."

The conspiratorial grin on Mike's face was worth my impulsive action. "I might have exaggerated," he said, mirth in his voice.

"I'll say," I responded, pleased to see that Kyle didn't enjoy being on the other end of the joke. "Now I see why you feel sorry for him." I waited to see if I had gone too far; Mike's shoulders were shaking as he tried to conceal his laughter. Kyle looked ready to explode.

"Mike, Walker" a pause and "Guy whose name I'm not going to learn," yet another person entered the conversation. This one however, wasn't unwelcome. After not being confronted with the entire Harvey package for some time, I was a little breathless on first sight. He looked stunning as normal, the tension I had noticed at his office last week no longer evident. He stared down Kyle, until I almost had sympathy for the kid, until I remember how he had spoken to Mike. He finally ducked his head and muttered some excuse to leave, his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Then Harvey turned to us. "Nice performance," he said.

Mike bumped my shoulder with his. "That was awesome Walker. You deserve another drink," he signaled for the bartender. I glanced down and saw that I had finished my third glass. Oh well, I was celebrating.

Mike and I chatted for a few minutes, with Harvey throwing in the odd comment every once and awhile, generally sarcastic and witty. I was thoroughly enjoying myself, getting to be around Harvey, with the buffer of Mike between us. Then the inevitable happened.

"Oh, there's Rachel," Mike said, taking the last drink of his beer. "I'm going to go say hi," he patted me on the arm as he left. Leaving me with Harvey.

I sort of expected him to make an excuse to exit as well; there were plenty of his associates around. To my surprise, he took a step closer, filling the space that Mike had left. He signaled for another drink and I searched for something to say. Generally in my daydreams, this is when I said something charming and enchanting. Instead, I sat in silence. Oh hell, I thought, this was going terribly.

"You did good work this week," Harvey finally broke the silence. "Mike said you found some of the accounting errors that helped us break the takeover." I took a deep breath, determined to not sit there like a lump without a personality.

"Thanks," I said. "I'm glad everything worked out okay." I was wracking by brains to come with an intelligent conversation topic. "So you're a Giants fan?" I asked, even though he hadn't been wearing any team paraphernalia when I saw him at the game.

He smirked, as though he knew that seeing him at the game had been on my mind for weeks. I obviously needed to invest some time in working on my poker face. "Yes, I am" he answered, "and a Knicks fan. And a Yankees fan."

Again, not the best poker face. "Yikes," I commented, "the Evil Empire. I'm surprised you're not a Patriots fan too."

"Now that's blasphemy," he said, taking a step closer to me. I caught the faint scent of his cologne and of course he smelled delicious. "Let me guess, you're a Mets fan."

If I hadn't been trying to impress the man, I would have snorted in amusement. "Not at all. I'm a Braves fan."

"Ah, a National League fan, how quaint," he responded, sarcasm heavy in his voice. And we were off. His statement started a healthy debate between us regarding the merits of both the American and National League that lasted through another round of drinks. He was charming, funny and informed, just adding to his overall appeal. I felt my tiny thing for him growing a little bit bigger. I had finished explaining to him why he was wrong about the designated hitter, when he took another step in my direction, closing the small gap of space remaining between us. "You're very vocal with your opinions tonight. And here I thought I intimidated you," he said, the smirk returning to his face.

I narrowed my eyes. I had enough alcohol in my system to loosen my tongue, plus, I was beginning to feel slightly comfortable with him, in this relaxed setting, so I answered, "I wasn't intimidated. Just annoyed. You also seem to be laughing at me for some reason."

The comfort level I had been proud of seconds before dropped dramatically as Harvey leaned close enough to me that his arm was flush with mine. I tilted my head to meet his eyes and was hit with the most seductive look that had ever been sent my direction. My breath caught in my throat and the butterflies in my stomach that had calmed down took flight again. "Well," he drawled, his voice a little deeper than normal, "I'm not laughing now." I blinked a couple of times, trying to process what was going on. I had died and gone to heaven, because I could swear that Harvey Specter was hitting on me. And I wasn't sure I had the strength or desire to say no.

Fate intervened when Harvey's phone rang. A look of frustration flew across his face as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. He frowned at the display, then turned to me. "I'm sorry," he explained apologetically, "I've got to take this." Before I had time to finish my nod of understanding, he had moved away from the bar and towards the door. I looked at the empty space next to me, wondering if I hadn't missed my best chance to get to know him outside of work.

I moved around the bar for a little while longer, talking with some people from work and meeting Rachel, the paralegal. If Harvey came back in, I didn't see him and he didn't seek me out. Feeling pretty discouraged, I noticed it was getting late and as it was a weeknight, I had to go to work the next morning. I headed towards the exit, telling Mike and Rachel goodnight as I did. I walked out into the brisk night air, glad for the cool breeze that cleared the vodka cobwebs from my head. What was I thinking, I wondered as I walked to the curb to hail a cab, there's no way Harvey Specter was interested in me. I wasn't a gorgeous six-foot tall blonde, I knew way too much about sports for a girl and I would never be that interested in being glamorous. Based on the woman at the game, these weren't traits he looked for in a companion. Better that I accept this fact, enjoy having someone pretty to look at during work and move on.

My plan might have worked if not for what happened next. As I raised my hand to catch the attention of the next passing cab, a shrill whistle split the quiet night. I spun around and saw Harvey, sliding his phone back into his jacket pocket, sauntering towards me. The cab obeyed, as I'm sure it had no choice, and pulled in front of me. As I was still basically gazing starry-eyed as he approached me, he had plenty of time to open the cab door for me. "Calling it a night?" he asked quietly, invading my personal space yet again. The ever-present smirk was there, but was somehow softer. I remembered that he had asked a question.

"Oh, yeah, gotta be at work in the morning," I answered, taking a step towards the cab. He followed me, placing one hand on the open door and one of the roof on the car, effectively blocking me in, not that I wanted to escape. "And it's getting kinda late."

He leaned into me even more and I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing. He brushed his lips slowly across my cheek and murmured in my ear, "Have a nice night, Madison." He stepped back after a second and I slid into the backseat of the car. He shut the door behind me and the cab pulled into the street.

It took two blocks for me to realize what had happened and then I couldn't stop smiling, even as I prepared for bed. He used my first name. Harvey Specter knew my name. Score one for the not-so-glamorous brunette.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: And another update… I gotta say, your reviews are definitely inspiring! Thanks for reading and please, let me know what you think!

The Tenth Time

I'll admit, I stayed giddy over the whole kiss on the cheek/saying my name episode for two days. I probably shouldn't have been; I know other people's opinions aren't supposed to matter that much to me and all that noise, but seriously. A guy like Harvey showing interest in me put a definite spring in my step. I found myself smiling dreamily for no reason and being pleasant to people I didn't like. I wasn't hearing wedding bells or anything quite so drastic, but I was happy and without a doubt looking forward to seeing him again. And the next time did not disappoint. Fairly early one morning, I received an unannounced, but not unwelcome visit from a flustered young man.

"Walker, I need help," Mike Ross said as he walked into my office and dropped into the first empty chair. He was carrying an accordion file full of paper and had his messenger bag slung over his back. However, what caught my attention was the object he was carrying in his other hand.

"What is that?" I asked, eying him with a little suspicion.

He placed the item in question on my desk and gave it a little push towards me. "That is an extremely large Dr. Pepper. I remember you went through a couple that day in Harvey's office. And I'm absolutely using it now to bribe you for help."

I gingerly picked the drink and took a sip. It tasted delicious that early of a morning. "Continue," I said slowly.

"So we have this case," I raised my eyebrows at this comment, which Mike noticed, but I didn't interrupt and kept drinking. "I know, I know, you're surprised. I've got to track down these transactions or Harvey's going to throw me in the Hudson. Probably with a cement block tied to my ankle."

I smiled. "I see him as more of a sniper type of killer, not a swim with the fishes killer."

I was glad to see Mike laugh a little; he had looked pretty stressed when he came in. "Either way," he continued, pulling a manila folder out of his stack of papers, "I'm dead if I don't find where this money came from today. And I'd really like to continue to living for a little bit longer."

"And you came to me, because I'm the best, right?" I joked.

"That and Harvey threatened bodily harm if I didn't ask you. So, can you help?" he asked, looking particularly pitiful.

"Well," I drawled, having every intention of helping him, "I do have some other projects I'm supposed to be working on…"

Mike nodded. "We, well, actually Harvey anticipated that. And he sent this." He pulled a single piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. I took another drink of my bribe and inspected the folded page I had been given. 'Walker' was written on the front in bold, masculine letters. A small thrill shot through me as I was pretty sure I knew who was writing.

"Walker," I read to myself, "Cut out the singing and dancing and quit complaining about me giving you more work. You know as well as I do that my cases are more interesting than whatever else you're working on. Feel free to order Mike around until you're finished, but you better damn well be done before the end of the day. Harvey." I chuckled out loud as I finished the note. It didn't take much to imagine Harvey saying any of that in person.

"Okay," I relented, not wanting to prolong Mike's torture, "let's get started."

Mike released exhaled noisily. "You are a goddess."

We worked all day long, barely breaking for lunch and ordering in pizza, cheese-stuffed crust I might add, for dinner. While I was pretty tired when we finished, I had enjoyed myself. Mike was really nice and extremely funny. We discovered we had the same taste in television shows and had traded quotes and favorite scenes back and forth as we worked. It didn't hurt that Mike was ridiculously smart; I was pretty sure the guy had a photographic memory or whatever the technical term was. He remembered transactions that he had reviewed three hours before, while I had to flip through the stacks of paper to find specific items again. I don't know how much help I was, but by 7:30, we had discovered the source of the income in question. Mike leaned back in his chair, a triumphant grin on his face.

"I honestly wasn't sure we could get this done. You're awesome Walker," he said.

I smiled in return, almost blushing at his praise. "It was nothing. And by the way, you'd make an great forensic accountant," I added. "Your recall is amazing."

He shrugged off the compliment. "Thanks, but I kinda like the whole lawyer thing. Speaking of which," he glanced at his watch, "I'd better go appease my boss. I'm surprised he hasn't called again to check on us." Harvey had called Mike's cell phone twice during the day to see if we were making progress. Mike gathered all his papers and the report I had quickly typed up with our findings and stood up. "Thanks so much Walker, I really appreciate everything. And I'll be sure to let Harvey know how much you helped." He draped his bag over his shoulder again. "I absolutely owe you one."

"Bye Mike," I called as he raced out, obviously in a hurry to get to his office.

I rolled my shoulders, a little stiff from sifting through files all day and began doing some of the tasks that I knew needed to be completed before I left. I had been pretty well caught up, so Mike's random project hadn't thrown me off very much at all. I did a few things and thirty minutes later, I grabbed my purse head to the elevator. As I walked down the hall, my phone started ringing. Digging it out of the side pocket, I frowned since I didn't recognize the number on the display, but I answered anyway. "Hello?"

"Walker," Harvey greeted me, his voice sending a thrill down my spine. "So Mike tells me that you were kinda helpful today." Even over the phone, I could hear Mike protest in the background. "Okay, totally helpful he says." I smiled, guessing that was a direct quote. Totally seemed to be a Mike word, not a Harvey word.

"Well, I did what I could," I said. I considered asking how he got my number, but I decided to just enjoy the fact that he cared enough to find it. "It didn't hurt that Mike is really smart."

Harvey sighed heavily. "I am not telling him that. Especially since you fed him that pizza that he raves about so much." I laughed, the pizza had been Mike's idea. "Good work."

I was glad I was riding in the elevator alone; I knew I was grinning like an idiot from the two simple words he had said. "Thanks," I replied, not knowing what else to say. "Glad I could help."

"Since I know you've had dinner, how about a drink?" he asked next. "You know, to celebrate the fact that I don't have to fire Mike or find a new accountant."

"Um, sure," I responded eloquently, trying not to trip over my own tongue in my rush to accept. Even if I would be sharing his attention with Mike, I was content to spend more time with Harvey. I tried not to squeal in happiness as I continued. "Where do you want to go?"

He named a bar not too far from my apartment and we agreed to meet in thirty minutes. Thankful that I hadn't exited the building yet, I dove into the lobby restroom and pulled out my emergency makeup kit. I quickly wiped away my smudged mascara and reapplied everything that I could, hoping that the lighting in the bar would be dim; I had been at work for twelve hours now. After smoothing my hair down, I walked outside to catch a cab.

I arrived about a minute after the time Harvey had set. I was glad the cab ride had taken longer than I anticipated; I didn't want to be the first to arrive. I wasn't sure if we would be more comfortable at a table, since there would be three of us and I would hate to make the wrong decision. I was again eager to impress. When I walked in, though, the hostess greeted me and escorted me to a table in the back.

I was shocked to see only Harvey, who stood when I approached the table. The table for only two people. I hoped my thoughts weren't visible on my face, but I was afraid they were, since Harvey was smirking as I sat down in the empty chair. "Hi," I said, a little breathless. "Sorry I'm late."

"That's alright," he answered. He didn't say anything else right away, as a waitress delivered two glasses, one filled with what I guessed was whiskey for Harvey and my favorite vodka tonic for me. I paused before picking it up for a fortifying drink, surprised that he remembered my drink of choice. "You were expecting to see Mike, weren't you," he stated.

I decided to confess. "A little. I mean, we are celebrating his continued employment."

"I find it easier to celebrate him when he's not around," Harvey replied, taking a swig of his own drink. He wasn't fooling me though; I had seen the slight smile that had crossed his face with this last comment. He was fonder of Mike than he wanted anyone to know. I wondered how much more I would learn about Mr. Specter as the night progressed.

Quite a bit, as it turned out. We talked about anything and everything, from movies and books to politics and business. I attempted to keep up and not sound like a flake, but I wasn't sure my vast knowledge of pop culture was in keeping with his tastes in subjects. He did seem surprised that I knew as much about law as I did and I explained that with a best friend who was already a practicing lawyer and a brother who talked only of law school, it was easy to pick up a few things here and there. I confessed my love for _Family Guy_ and he enlightened me on the virtues of jazz. He kidded me about being a redneck from Arkansas and I called him a snob with no sense of adventure. Basically, I was charmed beyond belief.

I was so engrossed in our conversation that I completely lost track of time. Before I knew it, my watch read 11:30 and I needed to get home. As usual, Harvey was two steps ahead of me and when I checked my watch, he signaled the waitress for the check. I pulled my wallet of out my purse, grateful that I had cash on me for once. However, the look that I received upon offering him money caused me to put in back immediately.

"You didn't have to do that," I said as the waitress took his credit card away.

He waved off my objection. "I'm not going to make you pay for your own celebration," he answered, his eyes crinkling attractively as he smiled. "I'm just glad I don't have to hunt for another accountant. Even if this one does turn in early."

I frowned playfully at him. "I do have to work in the morning and I am decidedly not a morning person."

"Sure, lightweight," he teased me. The waitress returned soon and we rose to leave.

That's when it happened. One of the few things a good-looking man can do to guarantee me melting into an incoherent giggling girl. As we wound our way through the crowd, he placed his hand in the center of my back and then slid it down softly to where it rested in the sensitive small of my back. He guided me through the people between us and door, always keeping light physical contact with me. His hand felt strong without being forceful and if I wasn't mistaken, his thumb moved a couple of times, stroking my back. My knees went a little weak.

Like before, he signaled for a cab and escorted me to the car when it pulled up. When he opened the door for me, I wondered if there would be a repeat of the last incident. I stepped off the curb and turned to face him.

"Thanks for the drinks. I had this project I had to work on for a real hardass, so it was a long day," I said, hoping to keep the mood light and friendly. He laughed quietly and took another step towards me. This time, his hand didn't land on cab door, but brushed a strand of hair off my cheek.

"You're welcome Madison," he said softly. That look was back, that magnetic look that darkened his eyes and forced the air out of my lungs. He leaned even closer.

"Maddy," I whispered as he steadily drew nearer. "You can call me Maddy."

"Maddy," he repeated before he kissed me. His lips moved confidently over mine, as his hand moved from my check to rest at the back of my neck, threading his fingers through my hair. I sighed dreamily, entirely involuntarily, and when I did, his tongue danced across my lips and tangled with mine. He tasted of expensive whiskey and something unmistakably Harvey. An electric current ran from the top of my head to the tips of my toes as he continued to kiss the hell out of me. When we finally parted, I realized I was gripping his shoulders, which were extremely solid under his expensive jacket, as if my life depended on it. He gave me another scorching kiss as I relinquished my hold on him. "I'll see you later, Maddy," he said as I dropped helplessly into the backseat of the cab.

"Bye," I breathed, even though the car was already pulling away from the curb. I leaned my head back against the seat. I had a sneaking suspicion I was getting in over my head, but what a lovely way to drown.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: I admit, I'm a little nervous about this one. Let me know what you think; I love reviews!

The Eleventh Time

I wasn't entirely sure what to expect the eleventh time we met. After one night of drinks and a thoroughly fantastic kiss, I certainly didn't think I was in some sort of relationship with Harvey, but I knew something was there. I had pretty decent self-esteem, but I still couldn't quite get a handle on why Harvey Specter, practically a legend according to my brother, was interested in me. Maybe it was because I was different, less girly and lower-maintenance than his normal type. Whatever the reason, I tried my best not to question it and enjoy what was happening.

I had called Becca after I got home the night before, doing a retroactive play-by-play of the day's events. She squealed in the appropriate places and sighed at the end. She presented me with a few options for my next course of action. Her favorite suggestion was that if I hadn't heard from him by Friday that I should call and ask him to dinner. She reasoned that with his personality and confidence, he was probably used to being the aggressor in any relationship and if I asked, it might be different. This went along with my theory of why he liked me, so I decided to take her advice. Plus, it gave me a whole day to rehearse the phone call. Fortunately, since all the ones I practiced sounded incredibly lame, I didn't have to worry about it.

I left my office building the day after 'the kiss,' chatting with a co-worker as I did. Because we were in deep discussion about some important topic I'm sure, it took me a minute to notice the sleek black Mercedes parked at the curb. With the very handsome man leaning against it. I stopped mid-step and felt a smile spreading across my face. When she noticed I had stalled, Gretchen, my co-worker, stopped as well and took in the sight before us.

"Oh my," she breathed quietly. We weren't very close to him, but I appreciated her discretion. "Is he waiting for you?"

Harvey flashed a grin our direction, giving the impression he knew we were discussing him. I couldn't decide if it annoyed me that he always looked like he knew what I was thinking or if it was just plain hot. "Yeah, I think so."

"You are a lucky, lucky girl, my dear," she answered, still basically whispering. "That man is sex on legs." She gave me a wicked smile. "You have fun tonight," she said as she walked towards the subway entrance.

I approached Harvey slowly, in an effort to get my breathing and heart-rate under control. "Am I in trouble?" I asked as I drew even with him. "'Cause I don't remember being late on any assignment you gave me, Mr. Specter."

Harvey rolled his eyes and opened the car door. "If that were the case, do you think I would have been waiting, patiently I might add, out here for you?"

I stepped towards the car, shook my head and answered, "No, you probably would have stormed into my office and yelled at me until I finished whatever it was."

"I don't yell, but you're right, I would have been in your office. Now if you don't have any further questions or plans this evening, we have reservations for dinner, Ms. Walker."

"I suppose I can go." I slid into the backseat, trying to act like I was escorted to dinner by gorgeous men in luxurious vehicles all the time. Inside I was jumping up and down like a teenage girl at a Bieber concert. The driver, who Harvey called Ray, pulled away from the sidewalk as we chatted about work and our days all the way to the restaurant. I noticed that while my initial reaction was still pretty fangirl-ish anytime I saw him, I was getting more and more comfortable talking to him. I was beginning to consider him a friend and somewhere in my mind, I knew how dangerous that could be.

The restaurant was a small and quaint, not the upscale, expensive place that I expected. I was glad; I wanted to enjoy the evening and not be worried about whether I was using the correct fork. The hostess led us to secluded table in the back, away from the few other couples dining. Harvey ordered wine for us and the waitress brought breadsticks. As I munched away, he told me about his latest case, in very generic terms with no specific details. We talked about whatever came to mind, at least I did, until our food arrived. It was delicious and the company was fantastic. Harvey had a great sense of humor, even if he did occasionally laugh at me, and seemed to genuinely listen to my opinions. All in all, I was thoroughly charmed and in deeper like than I had been before.

We lingered over the last of the bottle of wine. I wasn't ready for the evening to end and as I glanced at my watch, I saw it was only 9:00. Harvey saw me check the time and asked, humor in his voice, "Is it getting close to your bed time again, Cinderella?"

I frowned in what I hoped was a playful manner, trying to keep from smiling at him. "Not quite. Actually I was thinking that it's still early." I immediately bit my tongue in frustration. Wow, why didn't I just flip on the 'I'm really, really into you' neon sign? I hazarded a glance at Harvey to see if he appeared taken aback or freaked out or ready to run away after my comment. What I saw caused me to do that horribly girly, breath catching in the throat thing again. His eyes had darkened again and the corners of his mouth turned up into that captivating smile that kinda melted me.

"Well if it's not too late then, would you like to get a drink at my place?" he offered quietly.

Before I knew what I saying, I replied, "You want to show me your etchings?"

Harvey chuckled as I chastised myself for speaking before thinking. "You think I need etchings?" while he said it in jest, I knew he was partially serious. I was sure most women would jump at the chance to see Harvey Specter's inner sanctum. And as much as I wanted to say yes, I wasn't used to this sort of thing. I knew that going to his place didn't signify that anything would happen, but with the strength of my attraction to him continuing to grow exponentially, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to say no to the 'etchings' if offered. Again, he showed his ability to know what I was thinking when he added, "Just a drink, Maddy."

His use of my name solved my problem. "Yes, I'd like that."

A few minutes later, we were back in the Mercedes, winding through the dark New York streets. We were there in about ten minutes and I quickly noticed that Harvey lived in a much nicer area of the city than I did. I shouldn't have been surprised; I had heard rumors of how much Pearson Hardman and particularly Harvey charged, but seeing the evidence of it made me a little nervous. Just one more tangible example of how different we were. But those worries disappeared when he escorted me into his building. Instead of placing his hand at the small of my back like he had the night before, he slid it to rest practically on my hip. I sighed and told myself to calm down.

We rode in a private elevator to one of the top floors of the building and entered his apartment. I almost gasped out loud. His place was beautiful, with windows everywhere I looked. It was handsomely furnished and fit him perfectly. He poured us drinks as I wandered around, checking out the view of the city and his stuff.

"Your place is amazing," I finally said, as he handed me a glass. "And it suits you."

He smirked, "So you think I'm amazing?"

I rolled my eyes before I could control myself. "That is not what I said. And you should see someone about that self-esteem problem you have." He laughed again and we sat down on the extremely comfortable couch. Like before, we talked about a variety of subjects, but there was an undercurrent of _something_ flowing through our conversation. I knew that if I wanted, I could stay the night. I just had to decide what if I wanted.

I excused myself to use the restroom after a couple of drinks. I confess, I was extremely nosy and snuck a peek into his bedroom after I was finished. Then, I did a little more than sneak a peek as I was drawn to the view. I entered his room and opened the glass door to the balcony quietly and walked out to the railing. I could see for miles it seemed and the scene was entrancing. The air was slightly cool and I knew that I could stand out here for hours watching the cars and lights. It was the most beautiful view of the city I had ever seen. I was so wrapped up in the sight in front of me that I didn't hear him approach.

"This is what sold me on the place," he explained. I jumped slightly, a little embarrassed at being caught somewhere that I wasn't technically invited. He must not have cared, because he strolled out on the balcony with me, standing close enough to me that our shoulders were touching. He leaned against the railing, turning his body to where he could see me and the city at the same time.

"I can see why," I answered. "And sorry, I shouldn't have come out here without you."

He smiled. "It's okay. I'm glad to see my trap still works." Yeah, like he needed a trap.

I laughed a little, then bit my lip as I realized what time it was. "I should get going." I was beginning to sound like a broken record around this man.

"Or," he drawled. He trailed one finger across the top of my hand where it rested on the railing. He then wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled me closer to him. "You could stay." His voice was deeper and incredibly seductive. I stifled a sigh and started to speak.

"Harvey," I began, but before I could say anything else, I was cut off by his lips on mine. Like the night before, his kiss was thorough and drugging, erasing all thoughts of anything but him. And since we weren't on a public street, he was a little more forceful and persuasive, using the hand that had found its way to my neck to tug my hair gently. My head automatically tilted back, giving his talented tongue better access to my mouth. I decided to not play the bystander and I wound my arms around his neck, trying to bring him closer. He groaned when I did this, the first sign that what was happening between us was affecting him as well.

He slowly ended the kiss, teeth worrying my bottom lip as he did, something I secretly loved. Before I could put up the token protest I had planned, he brushed my hair off my shoulder and then cupped my cheek gently. "Stay, Maddy," he said. While it was somewhat of a command, I still knew it was a request. I nodded and was immediately swept into another passionate kiss. When this one ended, we had somehow moved closer to the door and my hands had finally mussed his perfect hair. He smiled and stepped away from me. He took my hand and led me back inside. "C'mon Cinderella, let me show you my etchings." I sighed; he might not be Prince Charming, but this was going to be one hell of a night.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: Okay, I just thought I was nervous about the last installment. If you're still with me, just trust me, I have no intention of letting you down. Let me know what you think; I love reviews!

The Twelfth Time

I woke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee brewing and sun streaming through the windows. My body knew it was extremely comfortable cocooned in the warmth of higher than normal thread-count sheets, but my mind was protesting that none of this was familiar. Then I remembered what happened the previous day; the car, the dinner and Harvey. I buried my face in the nearest pillow, which smelled heavenly I might add, as I blushed thinking of our activities after leaving the balcony the night before. While I would admit that Harvey was arrogant and cocky, I could now vouch that he had reason to be. Heat crept under my skin as I remembered where my hands had been and where his mouth had been and just how absolutely satisfied I had been and still was.

Since the man in question wasn't in bed with me, I guessed he was responsible for the coffee I could smell. I took one last luxurious stretch and got up. I was still wearing the Harvard t-shirt that Harvey had given me last night when we had finally decided to sleep. I walked into the living room and was greeted with a magnificent sight, an even better view than the one from the windows. Harvey was standing at the bar, sipping from a mug as he flipped through the paper, clad only in a pair of low slung-pajama bottoms. I took a moment to stare, possibly adoringly, at him. His normal attire hid a well-built upper body that was a crime to cover up on a daily basis and I wanted to drink my fill. His hair was still a little messy, probably from a set of enthusiastic hands that clutched at him several times during the night. He looked deliciously rumpled and somewhere in the distance I heard another nail go into my proverbial coffin. I hoped I wasn't in too terrible of a state as he glanced up when I entered the room further.

"Morning," he greeted me smiling. His eyes ran up and down my body lazily leaving heat in the wake of his gaze. "Nice shirt," he commented, still smirking.

"Thanks," I answered, suddenly nervous. I heard it in my voice and wondered if he could too. It was weird that I felt uncomfortable after what we had finished doing a few hours earlier, but I was. Maybe it was because I was in his shirt and in his house that I felt a little off-balance, plus, I was unsure as to what would happen next. I really wanted to follow my initial impulse, to wrap my arms and possibly other body parts around his gorgeous half-nakedness and claim a morning kiss. But I didn't know how that would be received. So instead I said, "Coffee smells good." My tone still sounded off, stiff and uneasy.

I thought I saw confusion flash across his face, but that only lasted a second as he gestured with his head towards the kitchen and said, "Help yourself. It just finished brewing."

In the kitchen, my uncertainty only increased. For some reason, I was less comfortable with this relaxed, half-dressed Harvey than I was with the custom suit and smirk wearing Harvey. Granted we had engaged in truly terrific sex, but that was no excuse for me to revert back to junior high when I was scared to talk to anyone of the male gender. I poured a cup and headed back to him, determined to not be as awkward as I had before. After all, he liked me enough to ask me to spend the night. I was literally in the process of opening my mouth to make a comment about how comfortable his bed was when he said,

"Whenever you need to go, I can call Ray to take you to your place." My teeth clicked shut, almost audibly and I swallowed hard to keep my stomach out of my throat. How could I have been so stupid? It hadn't been confusion on his face before, it had been frustration. He was obviously used to women who knew to perform these morning-afters with minimal fuss. And here I was loafing around wasting his time.

"Oh sure," I answered, a little too quickly and a little too high-pitched for my liking. I willed myself to calm down and continued. "That would be great, I'll just get dressed and be out of here in a few minutes. Thanks." I knew my words came out in a jumble as I turned back to his bedroom and began blindly collecting my clothes. As I rushed into the bathroom, I thought I heard Harvey say something, possibly even utter a curse, but I was too busy trying to hide to listen. Besides, I probably didn't want to hear whatever it was he said.

After I threw on my clothes from the day before, I stood in his fancy bathroom staring at my reflection in the mirror. This very situation was why I had decided in my early twenties that I wasn't wired for one-night stands. I didn't and had never owned the proper mindset to share something as intimate as sex with someone and then be prepared to not speak to them again. Or act like nothing had happened. I breathed in and out deeply and slowly, hoping to hold off any tears that might need to make an appearance until I had at least made it home. Not that I would have much time to be upset, I did have to be at work at the normal time.

I was lost in thought and in the pity party I was throwing when Harvey knocked softly on the door. "Ray's here, if you're ready to go."

I took one last deep breath and opened the door. He was leaning against the door frame, still looking better than he had any right to. He had an unreadable expression on his face; he didn't seem upset, but he didn't look happy either. I concentrated on the fact that he was practically kicking me out of his bed and not that he was the hottest guy I'd ever been with as I answered, "I'm ready." He kept his gaze focused on me for a long moment then moved and walked back into the living room. I followed quietly and headed to the elevator we had used the night before. I pushed the button, really ready to get out of his apartment so that I could fall apart in private. "Thanks again for the car," I said as the doors opened and I started to enter the elevator.

He stopped me, taking my hand and moving me towards him. I was stunned when he placed his hand on my neck and pulled me into a kiss. This kiss was different than the heated and passionate ones we had shared prior. This was soft, sweet and slow, and not at all what I expected from someone who was asking me to leave. When he parted, he brushed his thumb across my cheek before saying, "Thanks for staying, Maddy." I smiled shyly in response as I re-entered the elevator and headed to the street, completely confused as to what had happened.

The ride to my apartment was quiet. I was close to tears the whole way and the driver sensed this and didn't engage in small talk. I thanked him when we arrived and raced inside my building, determined to not cry in public. That did not end well.

The Thirteenth Time

Four whole days. That's how long it was before I saw him again. One long, sulky weekend and an even longer Monday separated the night at his place until I was called to Pearson Hardman to work on a case the next Tuesday. Dishearteningly enough, it wasn't Harvey who phoned, it was Mike asking me to come to their offices to help with an IPO project. I didn't have a reason to refuse, so I dragged myself out of my office and into a cab, half dreading and half anticipating seeing him again. After the kiss he gave me the morning after, I thought maybe I had overreacted to his offer of the car. But when an entire weekend passed and he didn't make any effort to contact me, I decided the kiss might have been one of farewell. I had spent most of the day Sunday drowning my sorrows in ice cream and deciding that one night stands were now off-limits completely. I was trying to convincing my heart what my mind already knew; that Harvey wasn't interested in a relationship and since he had never implied anything else, I didn't have a right to be angry or hurt. It wasn't working.

I was in the lobby outside of Harvey's office much too soon for my liking. I saw Mike sitting hunched over a file as I approached Donna's desk. She smiled and gestured into his office. "Go on in. Mike's in there and he's been whining about the hundred files Harvey dumped on him this morning." I nodded and entered the room behind her.

"Hey, Walker," Mike said, barely glancing up from the paper he was reading. "Harvey's in a meeting with this client right now, she wants to take her company public soon and we need the standard financial analysis on it. I really hope you know what that means, because I have no idea. Which is probably why he told me to call you."

My heart soared slightly with the fact that Harvey still thought enough of me to call, but I was disappointed that Mike had been the one of the phone. I smiled at Mike, wanting to give the appearance of being normal. "Sure, I think I can handle that. Let me check out what information you have and I'll see if we have everything I need." If my voice sounded a little off, Mike was nice enough to only give me a strange look, but not point it out. I sat down next to him and started flipping through the files available, jotting down notes as I read. We worked in silence for about 20 minutes, handing each other reports back and forth when finally Mike asked,

"Is everything okay?" I jerked my head up at his question, surprised that he had asked. My feelings must have shown on my face as he added, "You just seem a little down today. No joking or talking or anything."

I swallowed hard, keeping all the unwanted feelings from bubbling out. "I'm fine, just a little distracted, I guess. A lot on my mind," I finished, hopefully giving him some reassurance.

"If you're sure." When I nodded in response, he continued. "I mean, I know we don't know each other that well, but if you need to talk…"

"I really hope you're not sitting in here discussing feelings instead of working on the assignment I gave you three hours ago. I'd hate to separate you two," Harvey interrupted us. We both reacted like guilty children caught with our hands in the cookie jar, jumping like we were scared. Mike recovered much quicker than I did.

"We're making good progress, Captain. Walker's checking to see if we have everything," he explained.

"Then stop distracting her and let her work." I looked up and saw Harvey standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, as if he owned the world. I worked hard to compose my expression and I smiled. For a split second, he smirked, just like he had all the times before, but it didn't last long. "Mike, can I speak to you alone for a minute?"

I'm not sure what it was about that one sentence, but my last strand of endurance broke. I don't know what I was expecting from him the next time we met, but it certainly hadn't been that he didn't care to be in the same room as me. We were both professionals after all, and I assumed he had some experience with this kind of situation. It was obvious I didn't, because I wasn't prepared at all. I knew I was being a huge chicken, but I couldn't stay there any longer, especially in a place that practically screamed Harvey Specter. I gathered the reports that I would need, they were all there anyway, and walked out of the office. Neither Harvey nor Mike was anywhere to be seen, so I spoke to Donna.

"Hi, Donna?" I waited until she acknowledged me before I continued, "Do you mind telling Mike that I have all the reports I need for the analysis and that I'm going to head back to the office and get started on it? The program I need is there anyway, so it wouldn't do much good for me to stay here." I knew I was babbling, but I really wanted to get out of there.

"Sure, Madison," I was a little taken back by her use of my first name. "I'll tell him. And Harvey." Her tone of voice and the addition of her boss's name forced me to bite my tongue to keep from asking what she knew. I didn't know if she felt sorry for me because I was just another notch in his bedpost or because she knew I had never stood a chance with him. Either way, I figured I didn't want to know the answer.

"Thank you," I answered and headed for the elevators. As I waited for it to arrive, I made the mistake of glancing back in the direction of his office. He was back, talking to Donna, who had an extremely stern expression on her face. I saw he was about to turn to look at me, so I swiftly boarded the elevator and made a point to keep my focus on my cell phone, as I swiftly texted Becca that I needed an emergency drink or seven that night. Whether it was going to be anger, disappointment or relief, I didn't want to see how he felt about my leaving.

Thirteen was definitely an unlucky number.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: So updating rather quickly. This feels a little rushed, but honestly, I'm excited about the last chapter (which is next) and I'm ready to get to it. But however I feel about it, please let me know what you think; I love reviews!

The Fourteenth Time

I left the office that afternoon and headed to what had become Becca and mine's favorite bar. Unfortunately, it was the same place that I saw Harvey the first time, but that couldn't be helped. While I was upset, I wasn't so far gone that I was going to change my habits to avoid thinking about him. Besides, if I was going to have as many drinks as I planned, I wanted to be somewhere relatively near my apartment.

I arrived second; Becca was already perched on the opposite side of the bar with a double vodka and tonic and nachos waiting on me. I downed half of the drink before I even sat down and Becca gave me a sympathetic look. "That bad?" she asked. I glared at her in response, as I plopped down on the seat next to her. "That bad," she repeated, this time as a statement. "Okay, tell me what happened."

I had called her the minute I had time after the hideous Morning After incident, so she was up-to-date except for more recent events. I quickly recapped my visit to Pearson Hardman as I finished my first drink and ordered a second. Upon hearing everything I could remember, even the part about Donna appearing to scold Harvey as I left, she considered what I had told her in silence, absently munching on a chip. "Hmm," she finally said.

"Hmm? I make possibly the worst mistake I've ever made and now I'm suffering the consequences and all I get is hmm?" I was surprised by her lack of response. Normally by this time, she would be threatening to cut off protruding parts of a guy who had hurt me.

"Well, first off, take the drama down a notch." I rolled my eyes, not wanting to admit she was right. "That was by no means the worst mistake you've ever made. I seem to recall an unfortunate dating incident with an out-of-work actor that ended in $200 missing from your place. I'm not judging," she quickly added, seeing I was about to defend my former choice. "I'm just saying having a fling with a highly successful, incredibly handsome lawyer is not anywhere near the worst mistake ever. Probably not even in the top ten." I flipped hair off my shoulder, again not wanting to admit there was any truth in her statement. "Second, are you sure you're not overanalyzing a bit?"

At this, I almost slammed my glass on the bar. "Becca, he practically escorted me out of his apartment. Today, he looked me in the eye for six seconds maybe. That doesn't exactly scream 'I want to see you again,' now does it?"

She waited a moment, something I was used to. When I was upset, she would always carefully form her opinions before saying them out loud; I did have a tendency to fly off the handle quickly. "But he kissed you before you left that morning. That's not normal 'please-get-out-of-here' behavior."

"He didn't call me. And he didn't say anything when I saw him today." This was a weak protest.

"What did you expect him to say?" she asked as she signaled for another drink. "'Hey, great sex the other night, let's do it again soon?' C'mon Mads, you're both professionals, him extremely so. There's no way he's going to bring up a personal matter when you said you were called over for a specific project. And…" she said, and I could tell she was hesitant to finish. "You didn't ask him what was going on before you started any of this. You knew there was a good chance this was just a one-time thing. Plus, you didn't call him either."

My lowered my head to rest on my hands folded on the bar. I didn't like at all that she was punching holes in every argument I had to still be upset. This wasn't the way I wanted this bitch-session to turn out. "Why can't I just have a sex thing with someone? Isn't that what other people do?"

She patted my shoulder. "Yes, most people. We're not most people, Mads, you know that. And besides, you shouldn't have shacked up with some guy that you were falling into serious like with. That was your actual mistake."

I lifted my head. "I know. I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," she consoled. "You're a girl. You're a pretty girl who caught the eye of a pretty man and did what pretty people do. It just so happens this pretty man has a pretty personality and you ended up liking him." I laughed for the first time since entering Pearson Hardman earlier in the day. That ended two seconds later. "Oh shit."

"What?"

"Um," she drawled, "Speak of the devil?" she gestured almost imperceptibly to the opposite side of the bar. I couldn't believe my eyes. Harvey was sitting directly across from us, with another woman. She was elegant and beautiful, but also noticeably older than Harvey. I clenched my teeth in frustration. I had gone to this bar to drink, talk to Becca and get away from the whole situation and the 'situation' had followed me there. I quickly averted my gaze, hoping that he wouldn't see me and I could erase this night from my memory. Of course that didn't happen. "Oops, he spotted us. Oh, he's smiling at me," Becca provided play-by-play, barely moving her lips. "I hate to say this, but you probably ought to acknowledge him somehow or it's just going to get more awkward." I saw her give a half-hearted wave in his direction. So I decided to be a grown-up.

I looked up and was immediately met with those brown eyes staring at me. I smiled as friendly as I could while my heart took up residence in my throat. He smirked at me, the same one that he had given me that first night. I wanted to cry; it was like nothing had ever happened between us. After I had made the sufficient eye contact to be polite, I turned back to Becca. We chatted about anything but the object of the prior conversation and I was so thankful that she understood. I knew I probably looked like I had a twitch or something, as often as I glanced in his direction, but I couldn't stop myself. The minute I saw him leave his position next to the woman, I said to her,

"Becca." I didn't even have to finish my sentence.

"Go, go, I'll take care of the tab, just get out of here," she shooed me away with her hand.

"I love you," I said as I hopped off the stool. I quickly made my way to the door and escaped what had become a confining bar. I breathed the cooler night air deeply, trying to calm down. I was absolutely determined to not cry until I was home. I started hailing a cab, desperate to get away. Unfortunately, every cab that drove by was occupied. I raised my hand at least three times and nothing doing. I was about to give up and hike the fifteen blocks home when a familiar voice interrupted my decision.

"So that's how it's going to be? One night and now we don't even get to stay in the same public place? That seems to be a bit of an overreaction," I spun around to see Harvey exiting the bar, looking as calm as I was agitated. It wasn't fair that I was a bundle of nerves and he seemed as collected as ever.

"I have work to do, Harvey," I decided to lie about my reason for leaving. "I'm going to get an early start tomorrow on the analysis you asked for."

"Really? Because from this view, it looks like you're running away. From me. Again.

My nerves were stretched thin enough that they momentarily snapped. "Maybe I just wanted to get some sleep. I have a new analysis to start working on tomorrow. Besides, don't you have a date to worry about?" Oh hell, I thought, I sounded like a woman scorned with the sarcasm I put into that last comment. That was going to impress him for sure.

He smirked and I bit back a sigh. "You mean my client? Mrs. Kaplin of Kaplin Fashions?" I blinked. I recognized the name from the report Mike had given me that afternoon. "The client to whom I had every intention of introducing you as you'll be completing the analysis for her company's IPO."

This time when I blinked, my eyes stayed shut. I had no right to be acting the way I was. "I'm sorry," I finally said. "I should be handling this in a more mature, sophisticated way and I'm obviously failing. It won't happen again." I took two steps in the direction of my apartment when he continued.

"I would think if you only wanted a one-night stand you would be a little better prepared to see me again. We do work together, you know."

My jaw dropped open as I spun back around. "Me want a one-night stand? You're the one that had an armed escort waiting for me when I woke up."

"You mean when you came into my living room the next morning, wearing my favorite t-shirt and then proceeded to ask me about _coffee_." Although what he was saying should have been a question, he was stating facts. "When you acted extremely nervous and hardly said anything to me." By this time, he had closed the gap between us and we were standing practically toe to toe on the sidewalk. "I offered you a ride home; that didn't mean you had to take it immediately. I thought maybe you were worried about getting to work on time. And if you'll recall, I did kiss you before you left."

I quickly ran through the events of the Morning After, looking at things from Harvey's perspective. I frowned as I realized that he might have a point. I was unsettled upon seeing him that morning and my silence could have translated into haste to leave. But I wasn't ready to give up yet. "You didn't call me," I accused.

"Why would I call someone who rushed out of my bed?" Before I could protest, he cupped my cheek and ran his thumb across my lips. "And my phone didn't ring either."

"I thought you thought it was just a fling," I whispered. "That's why I left your office today."

"I know," he answered. "After talking to Mike and getting chewed out by Donna, I put two and two together."

"I don't really do one-night stands," I admitted.

"I know that too. How about from now on, we communicate our intentions so that you don't make any more wrong assumptions." I narrowed my eyes at him, not pleased that this had somehow become my fault. "Okay, so that _we_ don't make wrong assumptions."

I studied his face and saw something in his eyes that made me nod my agreement. It wasn't anything serious, but his expression was borderline affectionate. Then his head bent towards me and his lips descended on mine. I quickly lost all train of thought as Harvey kissed me. As we were on the street and in full view of anyone that walked by, the kiss was short, but sweet. "In keeping with this new agreement," he said as he hailed a cab, on the first time, I might add, "I happen to have two tickets to the Giants game Sunday. Would you be interested?"

I grinned in response and was nodding my head before he finished his question. "Of course! I would love to go. If you're sure."

He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek and rolled his eyes at the same time. "And might I suggest bringing a change of clothes with you for work. That way we won't have a repeat of the other morning."

"Yes sir," I agreed before he opened the cab door for me. "Anything else, _Mr. _Specter?"

He gave me another quick kiss. "Yeah, don't think this means you get a pass on that analysis. I'll expect it on my desk by the end of the day tomorrow, Cinderella."

It was my turn to roll my eyes as I got into the cab. I didn't know where this was going, but I knew I was going to enjoy the ride.

TBC—Epilogue


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

The One-Hundredth Twentieth Time

One Year Later

It had easily been the worst two weeks of our relationship. Not even when we had thoroughly disagreed on a case or fought over how much money Harvey spent on me had tensions run this high. There had been cussing, pouting and giving of the silent treatment and only one of those was done by me. I wondered how bad tonight would be as I waited for Harvey to arrive at my apartment. I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time, knowing that he wasn't going to happy with my outfit but not caring one bit. I smoothed my hair again, frustrated at its refusal to remain nice and straight, even though I knew it would be messed up by the end of the night. When I heard the knock at the front door, I quickly walked over to open it.

Seeing Harvey standing in my doorway never got old. He was in casual mode tonight, wearing jeans and amazingly enough a long-sleeved t-shirt. That didn't stop him from frowning when he saw what I had on. "Really, you're wearing that?" he asked as he strode into my place. I might have checked out his ass as he passed by me, but I wouldn't admit that him.

"If I recall, the first time I wore this, you stared at my chest the whole night," I snarked back, grinning evilly. "Has something changed to where you don't appreciate the view anymore?"

He cracked a very, very small smile at this comment and since he had been almost unbearably cranky the last three days, I considered this a victory. "I thoroughly enjoy what's in the package, just not fond of the label," he explained.

Even though we had been dating a year, a compliment like that one still made me warm inside and for a split-second consider changing. "You know why I'm wearing it."

"Whatever," he answered, his touchy disposition returning. "I don't understand how an intelligent woman like you could think what shirt she wears would affect the outcome of a ballgame."

"Says the man who forced me to sit in the same place on the couch for the entire playoff run last year," I responded, picking up my purse to go. "The Braves have won every game that I've worn this shirt. I'm not going to risk Game 7 by switching things up. You'll just have to suck it up and be seen with someone wearing an Atlanta t-shirt." We engaged in a stare-down for a few seconds, but as I knew he would, he eventually relented, holding out his arm for me to take as we left my apartment. "Besides," I added as we headed for the elevator. "You brought me a broom after the Yankees won the first two games. You deserve this for bragging." When I saw he was still pouting, a put my arms around his waist and gave him a kiss. "Now c'mon, don't be so mad. I'd hate to celebrate a victory with a sour puss," I kidded.

One corner of his mouth quirked up in his usual smirk. "Don't think you have worry about that, Maddy, the Yankees are going to kick Atlanta ass tonight." By this time, we were downstairs headed towards his car. Ray was waiting on us, opening the door as we approached.

"Hi Ray," I said before responding to Harvey. "Whatever, I'm wearing the lucky shirt," I gestured to the offending garment, "We're so winning tonight."

He slid into the backseat behind me, sitting closer to me than I expected. "If you're so sure Ms. Walker, why don't you put your money where your mouth is?"

It was my turn to frown. This was new. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"If you're certain Atlanta will win tonight, let's make it interesting. A bet between opposing fans."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He was using his 'lawyer voice,' one the Mike and I had named after we realized we could predict when Harvey was going to try and convince someone to do or admit something they didn't necessarily want to. I knew he had some trick up his sleeve and I wasn't sure I wanted to be a part of it. Then again, sometimes his tricks were a lot of fun. "What did you have in mind?"

"If the Braves manage a 4th miracle and win tonight," I rolled my eyes at this statement, "I'll fly you and a guest of your choosing to Little Rock for the Arkansas/LSU game next month."

I straightened in my seat and studied his expression. I didn't expect to get much from this, he did have an excellent poker face, but I tried anyway. He was grinning slightly and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. If I weren't worried about what I was about to agree to, I would have probably been a weak-kneed. But I really wanted to go to the football game.

"Okay," I said hesitantly. "What do you get if the Yankees win?" I didn't know what to expect at all. It could be anything from burning all my Braves gear to helping Mike with research for a month.

"When the Yankees win tonight," another eye roll from me. He paused for a minute and I could have sworn he looked nervous for a second. "This having to come pick you up all the time is getting old."

"What?" I asked, taken aback at his apparent change of subject and thoroughly confused. I thought for a second before saying, "You want me to start meeting you places instead of being picked up?"

He eliminated the last space between us and slid his arm around my shoulders. "That's not exactly what I was saying. More that it would be easier if you were somewhere that I didn't have to drive to pick you up." He started playing with my hair, an act which would normally distract me, but I was too busy working through his logic. I opened my mouth to ask if he wanted me to move to an apartment closer to him when it hit me. My eyes widened as I met his gaze again.

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

He smiled. "Well, I wasn't suggesting you move in with Ray."

I sat in stunned silence for a moment. While I was in love with Harvey and he felt the same about me, this was an unexpected step. I considered asking if he was certain, but I knew that he would have analyzed this from every angle already. If he asked, he was sure. I thought about my options for a minute more before addressing the other person in the car. "Ray?"

"Yes, Maddy?" the driver responded.

"Could you turn around and go back to my place?" I glanced down at my shirt and then back up at Harvey. "It looks like I need to change my shirt." As Harvey leaned in to kiss me, smiling triumphantly as he did, I realized this was the first time in my life that I hoped the Braves lost.

Final Score: Yankees 5, Braves 4. I was getting a new address.

* * *

><p>Final Author's Note: Well, this is the end. I have honestly never written a story this fast; it sort of took over my free time for a couple of weeks. Thank you to everyone who read all the chapters, added the story to your alerts and took the time to leave a review; I appreciate it more than you know. There might be a deleted scene in works, of Harvey and Maddy's first night together, but I wanted to keep this story PG-13 for the time being. I hope you enjoyed the story and the ending. Thanks again!<p> 


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